


the escapists (just be patient and don't worry)

by retropeachyy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retropeachyy/pseuds/retropeachyy
Summary: Keiji Akaashi didn't know what it was like to be a protagonist until he met Kotarou Bokuto. They were opposites in every respect, except in the way they loved each other. And to think that there was a boy on the opposite side of the planet who felt the same soul-crushing pain of being in love; it was all too intoxicating.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Kudos: 8





	the escapists (just be patient and don't worry)

1.

Keiji Akaashi was bored, and he had been for quite some time. He often suffered droughts of excitement, merely going through the motions and not savoring any part of life. He wasn’t one to look for the small details and cherish the little moments. Quite frankly, there was nothing to romanticize about his mundane suburban life, and he didn’t feel like tricking his mind into thinking that there was.

Keiji woke up in his dorm room where Tooru Oikawa snored like a beast, no matter the night. If he was lucky, he’d make it to the campus coffee shop before his 8am class- Astronomy. It was an elective class, what the hell kind of elective class took place at 8am on a Monday? He’d order his typical coffee with cream and sugar- he wasn’t a monster!- and would take the shortcut to the science building. He’d barely focus, take minimal notes, and then head to his next class. Copy, paste, repeat, all day.

After his classes, which of course were the boring, seemingly nonessential gen-ed ones, he’d get all gussied up in his work uniform and head to the bookstore where he slaved away for money to pay for all of those godforsaken overpriced coffees. Luckily enough, he didn’t actually hate his job all that much, but of course he’d still rather do anything else with his time. Then he’d go back to his dorm, where his entire floor would inevitably be congregating in his and Tooru’s dorm room, take a brisk shower, and then if god was on his side, he’d be able to go to bed with little to no interruption from that chaos that had moved next door.

Needless to say, Keiji’s life didn’t have a rose-colored filter over it. He was okay with it, sometimes.

And then one day, he’d never want that mundanity again.

**DECEMBER 22nd, 2017.**

All too reluctantly, Keiji had agreed to go to a Christmas party with a co-worker, Kei Tsukishima. He knew Tsukki from his classes, as they were both going down the liberal arts track, but Keiji was leaning more towards Literature, Tsukki History. He and Tsukki were similar in temperament, and he figured he’d be able to handle a party if he had someone to complain about it with him. The two would probably end up leaving early anyway, and Keiji had nothing better to do today. It was the perfect situation.

It was early that morning, and Keiji had a bout of cleanliness surge through him. It had been a while since he’d cleaned the dorm, and now seemed as good a time as any. Oikawa was out of town, visiting family back in his hometown. He’d been complaining of pain in his knee as of late and had decided to head back home for the holiday. Oftentimes, Oikawa would stay year-round on campus because of his insanely demanding commitment to the school’s volleyball team where he was their star setter, but he must have really needed that kind of emotional support. Regardless, Keiji wasn’t sure when the next opportunity to purge would be, so he gathered all of his supplies, turned on some music, and got to work.

Keiji loved to organize and clean. Maybe that made him a nerd, but he felt like it was a productive way to spend his time. He loved working in a clean, quiet, minimalistic setting. Of course, when Oikawa was around, those things weren’t always attainable. Still, he’d do what he could to secure that kind of environment whenever possible. He started by going through his side of the room, purging all that he no longer found necessary. Did he really need these loose leaf papers? Probably not. Some of them were crumpled or had scribbles on them anyway.

Half of his pencils were broken beyond repair, and some pens completely out of ink. There were books that he no longer read, clothes that no longer fit, and trinkets that had lost their meaning. Keiji didn’t consider himself a hoarder, but he was quite sentimental when it came down to it. He kept whatever meant something to him, which left a lot of useless knick knacks for him to handle. This time, though, he was much more liberal in what he chose to toss. Everything seemed to have lost its meaning. It was somewhat sad, but he wasn’t all that bothered. Everything has to change eventually, anyway.

He came across some journals that he kept, for posterity’s sake. He couldn’t bring himself to not look at them; they were physical pieces of a life that he’d lived yet, could hardly recall. He sat on the edge of his bed and began pouring through the pages of the past.

Keiji chuckled as he read the naive stories of his childhood, of playground mishaps and classroom kerfuffles. He pouted at the mention of old friends and girlfriends, and even his first boyfriend. His heart soared with pride at his acceptance into his choice high school. The story of his life was written in these pages, yet something about it all felt so far away. As if he was reading the story of a movie he’d once seen. 

Across the room, the buzzing of his phone interrupted the stream of music playing through his bluetooth speaker. He shook himself from his daze and made his way over to where his phone rested on the counter. He picked it up, seeing a snapchat from Oikawa. No one ever snapchatted him besides Oikawa, and he never used snapchat unless it was Oikawa trying to contact him. It wasn’t efficient, and it felt like a game. What the hell was a snap-score anyway? He opened the message, a photo, and was met with a face that certainly did not belong to Oikawa.

It was one that was somehow infinitely more handsome, and completely unrecognizable to Keiji. 

The man had gray hair. Streaks of black ran through it, so naturally that Keiji had trouble discerning whether or not the hair was naturally gray or black. It wasn’t the hair that caught his attention, though, and it wasn’t even the eyes, the seemingly glow-in-the-dark gold eyes that stared at his soul. It was the warm smile that spread fully across the man’s face. Even though it looked like the photo was taken by the light of the interior of a dark car, the smile made the photo radiate. 

“Streaks!” The message said, pasted near the bottom of the photo. He clicked out of it, sending a photo of a bleak smile. If by chance Oikawa was with the strange man to see the message, the smile would show him that Keiji was doing just fine. It was their roommate code, a simple, easy way for one to alert the other if things were going bad. A smile meant all was well. A screaming face meant someone needed to get ice cream or a therapist, stat. Oikawa was using that one much too often. More often than not, Keiji would just give a thumbs up in his photo instead of a smile. He found it much too performative and corny. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to reveal a smile this time around, and he tried, though unsuccessfully, to convince himself that it was not because of the handsome man on the other end.

He put his phone back down and made his way back over to the pile of journals on his bed. He pondered over them once more, deciding that it absolutely was necessary for him to keep them. But where? He kept reusable bags for groceries and the likes- he could always just make one of those bags into his Posterity Bag. That’s exactly what he did.

He was compiling all of his invaluable keepsakes into the bag when his phone buzzed again. Mr. Popular today, eh? Keiji opened his phone, yet another message from Oikawa, this time in the form of a chat.

OIKAWA: Hi Akashi! I just wanted to let you know, Oikawa isn’t doing too well at the moment. I’m here taking care of him though, don’t you worry!

So much for the roommate code, huh.

AKAASHI: Thank you for letting me know. It’s Akaashi, by the way. Akaashi Keiji.

OIKAWA: Oh! I’m sorry, Akaashi. 

OIKAWA: I’m Bokuto, by the way!

He hated when people couldn’t get his name right, but what he hated even more was when they made it all awkward. Bokuto didn’t do that at all. Bokuto. The boy with the beautiful smile. Noted. Duly. Keiji smiled to himself at the prospect.

AKAASHI: Is it his knee? I know he’s had issues with it lately.

OIKAWA: Yeah. He’s been limping a lot, and he’s not exactly able to use the stairs anymore. It’s pretty bad, Akaash.

Keiji didn’t let the use of the nickname slip past his notice, but he was much more worried about his roommates growing condition. Oikawa would often come home and ice his knee endlessly, limping and moaning if he hit it the wrong way. Still, he’d never not been able to walk or make it home.

AKAASHI: I knew things were getting worse, but it must be accelerating. Is he taking pain medication?

OIKAWA: Like a beast. And he’s downing it all with a box of Cheez-its. 

AKAASHI: He eats Cheez-its like they’re his life source.

OIKAWA: He’s getting crumbs all over my couch. Not that I care, really, my couch was covered with my crumbs anyway. But now I’ve gotta deal with his too!

Gross. That was nasty. Still, Keiji is laughing at the idea of Bokuto getting picky over whose crumbs are whose. What a stupid little thing to find funny. He found Bokuto funny.

OIKAWA: Do you know he leeches off my Netflix? But the only thing he watches is The Office. That’s it! There’s so many good movies and shows on Netflix but the only one he’ll watch is The Office.

AKAASHI: Trust me, I know. He doesn’t seem to be fond of headphones so I’m constantly listening to The Office in the background as I study. It’s my own personal hell.

OIKAWA: What, you don’t like The Office! It’s a classic!

AKAASHI: Sure, but I couldn’t watch it religiously like he does.

OIKAWA: What would you watch then? If you had to watch something religiously like that.

AKAASHI: Hard to say. Probably a good movie. Not sure what movie, though. I don’t really spend a lot of time on Netflix. What would you pick?

OIKAWA: Oh, High School Musical, anyday.

Keiji barked out a laugh. It was entirely embarrassing, and if Oikawa had been home to hear it, he probably would have had to switch roommates. Keiji hated his laugh and tried to suppress it as often as he could, but something about the ease with which Bokuto affirmed his love for a kids movie just pulled it out of him with ease.

AKAASHI: Of course, those movies are invaluable.

OIKAWA: THANK YOU! God, finally someone agrees with me.

OIKAWA: Shit, Oikawa just spilled all of the Cheez-its. I’m going to kill him.

AKAASHI: Good luck with him.

His phone didn’t buzz anymore after that, but the easy smile still remained on his face. It had been a while since he met someone new who didn’t make him want to isolate himself even further. He wasn’t sure what it was about Bokuto, but their conversation had been so easy, so thoughtless. He trusted Bokuto as a friend of Oikawa’s and it seemed that Bokuto did the same. They clicked wonderfully, instantly. It had been a while since Keiji made a friend like that.

Hours later, Tsukishima was standing outside of Keiji’s dorm, ready to make their way to the Christmas party. Apparently, it was supposed to be a costume/pijama party of sorts. The thought nearly made Keiji want to off himself, but he decided it would be better to adhere to the dress code than be the odd one out. Still, he wouldn’t go too far. He had slipped on his “festive” pair of pajamas, the ones with snowflakes on the legs. He paired it with a matching hoodie, figuring it would be better to match, even if it was just pijamas. He was infinitely glad that Tsukishima had done something similar, wearing red plaid pijama pants and a pullover.

“It’s my roommates' party,” Tsukishima explained. “They’re cool guys, but I don’t feel like being a recluse on my own.”

“What a nice sentiment,” Keiji teased. “Now we can be Debbie Downers together.”

“Exactly my thought process.”

Sure enough, the party wasn’t anything large. Tsukishima unlocked the flat’s door with his key, revealing a gathering of no more than about ten people. Still, it was more than Keiji dealt with on a daily basis, and an amount he usually tried to avoid as much as he could.

“Hi! You must be Akaashi,” a man with green hair said. He looked nice enough, his freckles and wide smile giving him an amiable appearance. “I’m Yamaguchi, one of Tsukishima’s roommates.”

Another man bounded over, and much to Keiji’s surprise, he looked like he could have been in some kind of a punk band. Or maybe juvie. His hair was bleached blond with an undercut, and eyes wild with some kind of passion. He was much too energetic for Keiji’s taste.

“‘Sup, Akaashi! I’m Terushima,” the man introduced. He stuck out his hand, presumably for some kind of handshake. Keiji reluctantly stuck his hand out as well, letting the other man guide him through some kind of complicated greeting.

“Nice to meet you both,” Keiji said. His social battery was draining at a rapid speed already.

“Make yourself at home! We’ve got snacks and drinks on the counter, and we were just getting ready to play a game if you’re interested?” Yamaguchi offered, ushering Tsukishima and Keiji towards the kitchen. There was a wide array of cookies, pies, and candies laid out aesthetically over the table.

“Yamaguchi’s in the culinary school,” Tsukishima explained, fixing himself a plate of what appeared to be a strawberry pie. “He’s really good, you’re gonna wanna get some food.”

“Oh, stop it,” Yamaguchi said, breaking out in a violent blush. “I’ve only taken a few classes so far.” 

Keiji fixed himself a plate as well, making sure to get at least one of everything. He took a bite of the strawberry pie, which Tsukishima had recommended. Sure enough, it was phenomenal. It melted in his mouth, light and fluffy, with just enough tartness to be complementary to the overwhelming sweetness.

“This is incredible,” Keiji said in between bites. “If you ever open up a restaurant, save me a table.” He meant it wholeheartedly too; if he ever found out that Yamaguchi had a store somewhere, he’d be first in line. Well, second in line, Tsukishima would probably be in front of him.

“Don’t boost my ego like that! Otherwise I’m gonna have too much food in this damn apartment.”

“If you ever have too much, just call me. I promise I can help you with that problem.” Yamaguchi laughed, and Keiji smiled in return. Maybe this party wasn’t going to be so bad afterall.

After getting introduced to a few others- Asahi, Daichi, Sugawara, Yaku, Lev, and Fukunaga- they gathered around to play the newest edition of Cards Against Humanity that Terushima had recently bought. Keiji didn’t mind this game a whole lot, especially just because it didn’t require him to do any embarrassing action or reveal something personal about himself. It was just a humorous card game with no intent other than shock factor and making your friends laugh.

“New rules!” Terushima announced, grabbing the attention of those in the group. “Nothing changes in the game itself, but if you have the winning card, you gotta take a shot!” Terushima pulled a bottle of vodka seemingly out of thin air, waggling it around as if it was some kind of trophy. Everyone else in the group seemed to think this was an interesting addition to the game, but Keiji felt like he was going to cave in. He hated drinking, and he hated being forced to give up his composure. Still, he wouldn’t back out and be the pussy of the group. He’d just play along and suck it up.

“I’ll judge first,” Daichi said, doling out cards to the rest of the group. Keiji looked at his hand, which was absolute garbage. None of his cards had any shock factor, but they were too random to have any value. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting drunk.

“What’s that smell?” Daichi announced, placing the theme card on the table for the players to see. Keiji reviewed his hand, distraught with the lack of fitting cards. He didn’t need to win, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to try, either. He settled for his least favorite card, ‘Meatloaf, the man.’ He waited as the rest of the group chose their cards, snickering to themselves about the stupidity of their selections. Keiji looked to Tsukishima, who had a slight smirk on his face as well.

“Okay, let’s see these,” Daichi said, shuffling the chosen cards. “Oh dear god.” He broke out in laughter, the rest of the group giggling along with him.

“What’s that smell? The art of seduction.” Daichi chuckled as he held up the card, Sugawara laughing especially hard beside him.

“What’s that smell? Hot cheese?” The game went on as such, Daichi reading their cards aloud and the rest of the group debating whose card really was the funniest. Just as he suspected, Keiji’s card was a group favorite, but it couldn’t beat out the one with the most shock factor.

“What’s that smell? Kale couscous and day old… s-semen….God, okay, this one wins, but only because it grossed me out the most,” Daichi said in between laughs.

“YES!” Lev screeched, taking the card happily.

“Okay, one shot coming right up,” Terushima chidded, fancily pouring a shot glass for the Russain. He took it gratefully, saluting the group before he threw it back, only wincing slightly as it went down.

The more they played, the more Keiji felt comfortable with the group. They were all friendly, some more chaotic than others. He laughed and played into their antics, but he enjoyed himself thoroughly. Even Tsukishima seemed surprised with the amount of fun he was having.

Until Keji’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A text message from Oikawa.

“I’m sorry for not being honest earlier,” it began. Keiji felt his heart sink out of his ass. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t seem like something he wanted to handle in front of the group.

“Hey, uh, where’s your restroom?” Keiji asked Tsukki.

“Down the hall, first door on your right,” he said. Keiji stood to head off, the group booing him for walking away. He plastered an easy smile on his face.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” he assured them. “No one get plastered while I’m gone,” he teased, nodding at Sugawara specifically.

“No promises!” The man called back in a telltale sing-song voice that proved to Keiji that he was gone already.

Keiji focused extra hard on his steps, making sure not to break out into a sprint as he went. He’d only read one sentence of the message, but it was long enough to rival a classic novel. Whatever was going on had to be serious; Oikawa usually texted in short, rapid bursts of information. He stepped into the bathroom, a cheesy, beach theme, likely Yamaguchi’s idea. He locked the door behind him. He knew he had to make this quick, whatever it was. He selfishly hoped he wouldn’t have to leave- he was actually having a good time.

“I’m sorry for not being honest earlier. As your roommate, and more importantly your friend, I should have told you about my condition sooner. I should have told you face-to-face, I should have let you in. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long.” Keiji was only a few sentences in, but he didn’t like where this was going. He took a seat on the padded toilet seat, holding his phone in both hands.

“What I have was supposed to be temporary. It was supposed to go away with some rehabilitation and meds. It’s not getting better, and it’s only getting worse. I’ve not been able to walk for some time now, and that’s no exaggeration. Since I’ve come home, I’ve been wheelchair bound, completely helpless to the care of my parents and friends. It feels shitty. Maybe that’s why I waited to tell you so long. I didn’t want you to have to take care of me like this.

“I’m going in for an emergency surgery today. It’s a rare surgery for a common condition. I’m not exactly sure what’s going to happen, and I feel awful having to tell you like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m a tough bitch, after all.” Keiji chuckled at Oikawa’s ego. “Still, I’m nervous as all hell and focusing on that small percentage that it won’t be. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I hate myself for putting you in this position. Be strong for me, okay? It’s not every day that you’re stronger than me anyway, you know I fear nothing.” 

Keiji felt like an asshole. He’d known for weeks, hell, months, about Oikawa’s pain. Oikawa had moaned and groaned and complained, some days acting like a complete dork, and others acting like the pain didn’t phase him. It wasn’t that Keiji ever doubted his pain, it was just that Keiji hadn’t thought to ever take it so seriously. He couldn’t imagine that Oikawa was actually dealing with something serious, the way he always joked about things. And now, even though Oikawa technically hadn’t been transparent about the whole thing, Keiji felt like the world’s worst friend for being such a blind fool.

Keiji typed back, fingers shaking with regret. “Tooru, you’re going to be fine. You’re right, you’re a tough bitch. Don’t lose to a measly little knee issue.” Keiji sent the first message, saturated with the same, blasé tone that Oikawa had always held about the subject. He couldn’t help from typing out one last message, saying, “You’re strong enough to carry the world on your shoulders.”

Keiji turned on the faucet to the coldest water it could produce. He splashed his face with the ice cold liquid, letting it trail down his face and burn his skin. He owed Oikawa, big time. Seriously, in all his life of jerk activity, Keiji had never felt quite as bad as he did in that moment. He looked up in the mirror, seeing his soggy, regret filled features reflected back at himself. His viridian eyes stared into themselves.

“You fucking prick,” he whispered to himself, drying his face off. He heard his phone buzz on the counter. Quickly, he opened his phone to another text from Oikawa. Only, it wasn’t Oikawa, it was Bokuto again, on Oikawa’s phone.

OIKAWA: It’s Bokuto. Sorry Akaashi, that wasn’t actually him. I mean, he typed it out and everything, but he didn’t send it. He’s in the operating room right now.

AKAASHI: That’s okay. Just make sure he sees it when he gets the chance, okay? Are you with him?

OIKAWA: Of course I will. And yes, I am. He collapsed earlier after insisting that he could walk. I would have messaged you sooner, but I was too busy rushing him here.

AKAASHI: Don’t worry about it, I’m glad you’re telling me now. Is he doing okay? Do you know anything?

OIKAWA: I don’t know anything. He’s been in for about twenty minutes. I’m not sure how long it’s supposed to take at all.

“Akaashi, you okay in there?” Yamaguchi knocked at the door.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Keiji said, realizing he’d spent an awkward amount of time in their bathroom.

AKAASHI: Please update me when you can, Bokuto.

Keiji opened the door to the bathroom where Yamaguchi stood with a concerned look on his face. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, sorry about that. I just needed to take a call, quickly.” Keiji hoped that they’d all been too focused on the game to notice Keiji.

“Good,” Yamaguchi said, relieved. “Because if it was something you ate, I probably would have given up culinary school.”

Keiji gripped Yamaguchi’s shoulders, looking intently into his eyes. “Please never quit culinary school. For the good of society.”

Although the party was fun, and the company was wonderful, Keiji didn’t stay much longer. He couldn’t focus on the lighthearted fun. His mind weighed heavy with Oikawa and his sudden surgery, with the guilt of not realizing just how bad it had been. He’d felt bad for being the first to dip out, as if he was ruining their party with his absence. He’d promised Yamaguchi that he’d be back for more of his stellar cooking, to which Yamaguchi waved off the compliment with a wild blush across his face. Keiji could really use some new friends, and he felt like he may have found some there that day.

Tsukishima walked with him back to his dorm. It was a nice gesture, but Keiji figured it was likely just because he needed a break from all of the commotion. Like himself, Tsukki’s social battery died out pretty fast, even when he was having a good time.

“Was everything okay back there?” Tsukishima asked. “You got really fidgety and weird after you came back.” He kept his eyes trained on the ground, as if it would be too much work to look up at Keiji as they walked.

“Yeah,” Keiji lied. He didn’t want to lie. “It’s Oikawa. Turns out his whole knee thing was no joke and he never told me. Or I never noticed it. He’s getting an emergency surgery right now,” Keiji admitted.

“Jesus,” Tsukishima whistled. “That’s tough.”

“I mean, he’s in good care. With family, and all. A friend of his is supposed to be keeping me updated, but he hasn’t messaged in a little while.”

“Message him,” Tsukishima suggested with a shrug. “No harm in doing that.”

Keiji took out his phone, typing out a quick message to Bokuto.

AKAASHI: Is everything going okay?

“It’s Oikawa,” Keiji said, putting his phone back into his pocket. “He’s gonna be fine.”

“Sure, but it never hurts to check in.”

“I never would have pegged you as such a softie,” Keiji teased.

“What can I say, I’m a saint.”

Back at Keiji’s dorm, he restlessly tried to get some work done. Finals had just ended, but he always liked to start reading the textbooks of the next classes on his schedule. It made the beginning parts of the next semester easy, and he didn’t have to stress too much about it. Of course, he wasn’t focusing very easily, willing his phone to buzz with an update. At this point, Oikawa had likely been in surgery for two hours, if not more. That seemed too long, as if something was off. Keiji had messaged Bokuto, though, and he didn’t feel like being a bother.

One of his next classes was an intro-level communication class. He wasn’t sure how it was necessary for a Literature major, but it seemed interesting enough. The professor was rumored to be a fireball too, which Keiji was looking forward to. He wasn’t a teacher’s pet or anything, but having an outgoing teacher always made the other students more likely to chip in, and Keiji loved listening in on discussion, even if he wasn’t a huge part of it himself.

The textbook was huge, filled to the brim with more technical words than Keiji cared to learn. He skimmed the pages, reading about the nuances of broadcast television, the death of the written media, movie production, and the art of the podcast. Keiji didn’t particularly care for movies, but podcasts were interesting. Of course, Keiji would always choose a written novel over a spoken one. He prided himself on his ability to read at the speed of light and always felt that the narrator took too long.

He was actually getting invested into the chapter on movie adaptations when his phone buzzed. He felt his soul jerk back into reality, as if his alarm had just woken him from a dream. He pulled his phone over with record-breaking speed, unlocking it to a few messages from Bokuto.

OIKAWA: Sorry about that, Akaashi. There was a complication, but everything is okay now.

AKAASHI: Complications? What happened?

OIKAWA: The anesthesia wasn’t keeping him under very well. Apparently he kept waking up, completely out of it but he could feel everything. Not good shit. They managed to get him back under, but it took, like, five minutes. He’s probably never gonna go get a shot ever again.

AKAASHI: Jesus, that’s horrible. Is everything okay now?

OIKAWA: Yep! He’s in recovery now. I’ve got to go do some paperwork for him, actually. Here, I’ll give his phone to Hinata, he can tell you more.

Keiji recalled Oikawa talking about a friend named Hinata before, but he hadn’t taken it much with a grain of salt. He’d mentioned that his friend Hinata was an actor in Hollywood, he’d even shown Keiji a short reel of some of his roles. Keiji didn’t pay that much attention to it, though. But if this was the same Hinata, did that mean that Oikawa was in America?

OIKAWA: Hi Akaashi!! This is Hinata :D

AKAASHI: Hi, Hinata, it’s nice to meet you. Or talk to you, I guess.

OIKAWA: No need to worry. Besides his little blip, he’s going to be just fine. I mean, he’s not going to be able to walk for like, a while, but he shouldn’t have any more pain.

AKAASHI: Thank goodness for that. I feel awful for not realizing how bad it was sooner.

OIKAWA: Oh, don’t worry about it. He didn’t even tell us how bad it was until he got here.

For fuck’s sake, did Oikawa actually go to America? Did he actually disable himself in a foreign country? God, he sure was an idiot.

AKAASHI: Oikawa mentioned you were in Hollywood, is that where you are now??

OIKAWA: Oh, no not at all. We’re in his hometown. We came to visit since we haven’t seen him in a while?

AKAASHI: You and Bokuto?

OIKAWA: And Kuroo! You’d like Kuroo. He’s at Oikawa’s place right now though. He’s got the job of making sure the whole place is wheelchair accessible. 

AKAASHI: I’m glad he’s got friends like you to take care of him while he’s away. I feel bad I can’t do anything to help. 

OIKAWA: Don’t worry about it! We’re going to take good care of him.

OIKAWA: Oh fuck, sorry, I’ve got to go. Kuroo’s here. And he brought the cat. He brought the fucking cat. 

OIKAWA: Sorry about this haha 

AKAASHI: Don’t worry about it, good luck with that. And thank you again.

What kind of idiot brings a cat to the hospital? 

Keiji’s curiosity was piqued. It almost sounded like the four of them were some kind of group. A ragtag group of a college student, an actor, and the other two. Were the other two, Bokuto and Kuroo actors too? How did they know Hinata?

Keiji had never googled something so hard in his life. Of course, it didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. Sure enough, Shoyo Hinata was an actor, a rising one at that. Still, despite his young age, he’d starred in many leading roles in indie films, even some more mainstream ones. His IMDB page was filled with fun facts, reels, awards (which he had a lot of), and comments from adoring fans. He had a lot of adoring fans. Keiji had scrolled to the bottom of the page after finally overanalyzing each of Hinata’s stats. It was impressive stuff. He wondered if he should have been a little bit more formal when they were messaging. At the bottom of the page was a bunch of recommended searches, those that often went when searching Shoyo Hinata.

And there they were.

There he was.

Kotarou Bokuto, age 25, Japanese-American actor.

Tetsurou Kuroo, age 25, Japanese-American actor.

**DECEMBER 25th, 2017.**

Keiji Akaashi was totally having buyer’s remorse. He’d decided on a whim that it was time to redo his side of the dorm. He’d bought a brand new comforter, new lights, new shelving, and little decorations to make his space less boring. Now that he was setting everything up, though, it occurred to him that maybe he didn’t like all of it as much as he thought he did. It was a nice theme, a clean looking one. But it wasn’t very him. He didn’t know what ‘him’ was though, so until he figured that out, he’d be stuck with all of his new furniture and decorations. What a waste of his holiday bonus.

The past two days had gone by fine, but he had a wild case of FOMO. Oikawa was doing fine, and the two had caught up on the phone the night prior. Oikawa, despite his alleged run in with death, was as blasé as ever, acting as though he never feared anything and that his collapse was “no big deal! No really!”

He’d messaged Bokuto a little more too, though it was on Oikawa’s phone. It was often hard to tell which one of the two he was talking to, given how they’d switch in the middle of a conversation. It was quite annoying. Keiji wondered if he’d ever hear from Bokuto after Oikawa returned. Probably not, considering how busy he must be overseas. Keiji wasn’t sure why the idea of not talking to Bokuto upset him so much. He’d only known the guy for a few days, after all. 

Keiji couldn’t handle it anymore, he was trying so hard to just be comfortable in his space, but the new decorations really didn’t suit him the way he thought they would. He sighed to himself, and began to pack up what he could gather. He was glad he’d kept the receipts and tags, because he was fully prepared to lug all of this back and get his money back.

Of course, he didn’t get very far in his venture when his phone buzzed. None other than a snapchat from Oikawa. He opened it, a faint spark of hope rumbling in his heart. Of course, this time it really was just a photo of Oikawa giving his signature roommate code smile. Keiji sent a photo back, just a thumbs up. He didn’t even have time to shut his phone off before he received a message from Oikawa.

OIKAWA: Soooooooo…

AKAASHI: What.

OIKAWA: You met Hinata and the guys! How’d you like them?

AKAASHI: They were nice, I liked them. Cool guys.

OIKAWA: Soooooooo…

AKAASHI: What.

OIKAWA: Okay, I’m not supposed to tell you this. But Bokuto really liked talking to you and he may or may not have gotten a burner phone so you could keep in contact.

Keiji felt his heart swell in his chest, threatening to burst and spill all over his new rug. 

AKAASHI: Why aren’t you allowed to tell me that?

OIKAWA: He thought it’d be embarrassing. He also just wanted to surprise you, but I figured you wouldn’t respond to some random number.

AKAASHI: You know me so well.

OIKAWA: That’s my job! Don’t tell him I told you.

AKAASHI: I wouldn’t dream of it.

Keiji couldn’t help himself; he giggled like a little schoolgirl at the prospect of Bokuto enjoying his company. He really liked the conversations they had, so candid and unimportant. Bokuto was wonderful, perfectly able to have a serious conversation and yet, so lighthearted and caring and funny. Keiji was glad they’d be able to talk now. His phone pinged. It was a sound that would have made him anxious in the past, but now, he found that it was his favorite sound in the world.

And this foreign string of numbers was now the key to a newfound friendship.

BOKUTO: Hi Akaashi! It’s me! Bokuto!

AKAASHI: Hi, Bokuto. It’s nice to hear from you.

BOKUTO: It’s nice to talk to you! Sorry for all of the exclamation points! I’m just excited!

BOKUTO: How are you?

AKAASHI: I’m pretty good. Just doing some cleaning. How are you?

BOKUTO: I’m pretty good myself! Cleaning is boring though, how are you having any fun doing that?

AKAASHI: Well, I made an impulse decision to completely redo my side of the dorm and it doesn’t feel right. So now I’ve got to take it back and find new stuff to replace it.

BOKUTO: Ooooo home renovation! I love renovating stuff. Sometimes when I’m bored I push my bed to the other side of the room so that it feels new.

Keiji could picture Bokuto, him and his 6’2 strength (Keiji knew everything about Bokuto. Thanks, Wikipedia) plowing his bed from one wall to the other. He could picture Bokuto struggling to decide where everything would look best, getting lost in a maze of furniture scattered in his room. He wondered how big his place was.

BOKUTO: Oh my god, I’m on set right now and you’ll never guess what’s happening.

On. Set. Bokuto was in Hollywood, on set, finding the time to message Keiji. What about the time difference? What was it, seventeen hours? What the hell time was it? For Keiji, it was only 6pm. But for Bokuto…

AKAASHI: You’re still on set? Isn’t it 1am there?

BOKUTO: Oh, yeah but I’m usually working this late. I don’t get a lot of downtime.

BOKUTO: Uh oh, Hinata totally just challenged one of the producers to a jumping contest. 

AKAASHI: A what?

Keiji honestly couldn’t believe they were still working at 1am in the first place, but he more so had trouble comprehending the fact that they seemed to be so full of energy. 

BOKUTO: Hinata can jump like, high as hell. Like a scary amount. It freaks people out when they see it.

AKAASHI: Isn’t he really small?

Great. Fantastic. Now Keiji felt weird. He’d basically just inadvertently admitted that he’d looked up their pages. Next, he’d probably tell them their own blood types. Luckily for him, Bokuto didn’t seem to care at all.

BOKUTO: He’s so small! And he’s fully grown! He’s a little freak and we love him.

BOKUTO: Oh god, okay he just knocked over a set light.

AKAASHI: A whole set light?

BOKUTO: Yeah, one of those standing ones. He took a running start and his momentum just carried him away. 

BOKUTO: He totally beat the producer though.

AKAASHI: Good, that way it wasn’t all for nothing.

Keiji hurriedly finished gathering all of his discarded room decor. He was a man on a mission, sure, but made sure to arrange his bags so that he’d still have a free hand to text Bokuto with. He felt like a clingy bastard, but he was a happy one, too. Bokuto was like a star, in every sense of the word.

The bitter December cold nipped and bit at his fingertips, gnawing away at their soft flesh. Keiji had brought gloves with him to the bus stop, but he couldn’t type with them on. He was getting tired of taking them on and off, on and off, just to message Bokuto back. Bokuto, who was up in the ungodly hours of the morning, working his ass off and still finding time to message him back. 

Even on the bus, Keiji was that selfish asshole that placed his bags on the seat beside him, freeing both hands to message Bokuto more efficiently. It wasn’t that busy on the bus that night, so honestly he didn’t feel bad. All he knew was messaging Bokuto back, keeping the conversation alive.

BOKUTO: What do you think the first person who tasted cheese was thinking? Like, “oh this shit is fire,” or more like “this milk is going to fucking kill me?”

AKAASHI: Hard to say, I never thought about it before.

AKAASHI: How about the third, secret option: “Where the hell is the nearest bathroom?”

BOKUTO: What, you don’t like cheese?!

AKAASHI: I’m not the biggest fan of it. I mean, it’s okay, but I’d rather avoid it at all costs.

BOKUTO: Remind me to never bring you to America, then. They put cheese on everything here. That’s no joke.

BOKUTO: Today I had cheesy fries. It’s just a pile of fried potato, melted cheese, and bacon. Have you ever heard of anything more American?

AKAASHI: That sounds like a sin. America seems like such a scary place.

BOKUTO: It is, but it’s so fun. I think you’d like it here.

Keiji mentally updated his bucketlist right then and there: Go to America. He immediately revised that addition: Go to America With Bokuto.

It was more than a hassle to return all of his stuff. It was quite literally everything he’d bought that morning, minus the comforter which he actually didn’t mind. Customer service looked at him like he was a crazy person, but he didn’t even care. He wanted it all to be over so he could go back to texting Bokuto. He wouldn’t even worry about replacing the old yet, he just wanted to lay on his comforter with his phone in his hands, playing music and daydreaming about cheese.

Keiji was never going to be able to look at the world the same ever again. Already, everything reminded him of Bokuto, the conversations they had. Bokuto was the world’s most addictive drug, and Keiji couldn’t help himself from getting more and more and more….

**JANUARY 1st, 2018.**

It was already 5pm for Keiji, but it was just then 12am for Bokuto. 

BOKUTO: Happy New Year, Akaash!

Bokuto liked to call Keiji “Akaash.” He found it wildly endearing.

AKAASHI: Happy New Year, Bokuto. 

BOKUTO: Do you have any fun resolutions? Mine are to break more rules and get weirder roles.

AKAASHI: My resolution is whatever is gonna let me graduate the earliest. And why would you want to break more rules?

BOKUTO: I don’t like my manager. He’s a huge jerk and my contract is incredibly strict. So I’m gonna start breaking rules on it and make him change it.

AKAASHI: Are you sure that’s gonna work? Won’t that just get you fired?

BOKUTO: Nah, I’m too cool to be fired. ;)

AKAASHI: You better be, or you’re gonna get screwed. Not that I’m endorsing this, but what’s the first rule you plan on breaking?

BOKUTO: Oh, I already broke one!

AKAASHI: Which one was it?

BOKUTO: The one where I’m not allowed to get in contact with strangers. (You’d be the stranger, technically.) But I know you, and I’m not using my real phone, so technically it should be okay.

Keiji was reeling, completely and utterly falling apart at the notion that Bokuto’s resolution was essentially just to talk to him. He took back everything he said about not breaking rules, he totally endorsed this.

AKAASHI: You’re not allowed to talk to strangers?

BOKUTO: Legally, at least in my contract, the definition of a stranger is anyone who doesn’t have an NDA, or doesn’t co-star beside me. Or anyone who is of a lesser ‘status’ than me. It’s hot garbage and it pisses me off.

AKAASHI: God, that’s awful. How is it legal for your managers to be so controlling?

BOKUTO: I have no clue. I’m signed to one of the biggest agencies in the country, that’s probably how they get away with it. Too much money.

BOKUTO: But I think that’s unfair and I’m not gonna follow their stupid rules. Otherwise, I’d miss out on knowing people like you.

Keiji felt his heart explode. It was like taking a shot of heroin straight to the heart, seeing Bokuto say that.

AKAASHI: I take back what I said. You should break the rules.

AKAASHI: BUT ONLY SOME OF THEM. Don’t go be stupid.

BOKUTO: When have I ever been stupid?

**JANUARY 2nd, 2018.**

Holiday buzz had passed and Keiji was forced to return to yet another shift at the bookstore. It was a busy day, with students trying to find books for their return to school and the general public always being a factor. Keiji liked his job, mostly because he always had at least two cups of coffee in his system by the time he clocked in. He felt strangely motivated to be as helpful as possible. He needed a raise, hell, he needed intellectually stimulating conversation. Hopefully no one he knew came in, though. He always hated dealing with peers.

Keiji’s phone buzzed, and a pleasant, warm feeling arose in his chest. It was probably Bokuto, up late again thinking about some weird book he’d read or a funny story about Kuroo. Last night, Keiji learned that Kuroo loves to threaten legal action on people. Apparently, Hinata was always on the brute end of those jokes.

BOKUTO: There’s just something about him, Oikawa.

Keiji was getting all too familiar with the feeling of his heart falling out of his ass.

BOKUTO: He’s so warm, and he’s cute, and he puts up with my bullshit. He cares about me but not in the way that people usually do, yknow? It’s like he sees me as a real human, not just as some famous dude. It sucks, Tooru. God knows how much I like him but I just can’t have him.

Keiji had never squealed so loud in his entire fucking life. He was practically making a scene, right then and there in the back warehouse of the store. He thanked his lucky stars that no one else was in the room right then, or they would have had their eardrums blown out, no question.

He didn’t understand why he liked Bokuto so much, but he felt his whole entire soul explode at the prospect that halfway across the world, there was a man who felt the exact same way. There was an incredibly funny, caring, handsome man on the complete opposite end of the globe who felt the same soul-crushing pain of falling, the same all-consuming ache of something love-adjacent. It was better than a heroin shot straight to the heart, Keiji decided.

AKAASHI: I have a feeling that wasn’t meant for me, was it?

BOKUTO: Holy fuck. No it most certainly was not. Holy shit. I’m so sorry.

AKAASHI: Don’t be, really. I think that might be the most endearing message I’ve ever gotten.

BOKUTO: Even better than the one about cheese?

AKAASHI: Hm, okay maybe the cheese one is still the best. But this was a close second.

Keiji was such a little shit, he couldn’t even admit to his feelings right then and there. It was the perfect opportunity for him to bear his soul, saying “goddamnit Bokuto! I am completely falling apart and it is because of you! Oh, the horror of falling! Oh, the joy of being loved! Oh, Bokuto, I want nothing more than to eat cheese with you!” But Keiji was totally a coward, and he decided that maybe that wasn’t the best idea of all time ever.

Or maybe it was because Bokuto had inadvertently created Keiji’s newest fear: treating Bokuto as though he were something other than human.

And of course, Keiji could sympathize with Bokuto for that. He was sure that being as famous as he was had its downsides. Keiji already knew just how horrible Bokuto was being treated by his company, between his strangling contract and carelessly late nights. Keiji had never before considered how he must be treated on the outside, though. Keiji had never once thought about how his fans, the media, all of those outside forces treated him. Keiji had never once thought of Bokuto as anything other than Bokuto, because to him, that’s all he was. Of course Keiji knew he was a famous actor, but that wasn’t the image he associated when he thought of Bokuto. He just pictured the sweet guy he knew, and the friend he’d come to love.

But now, and probably for the rest of his life, he’d fear accidentally idolizing Bokuto. Even with the most sincere intentions, Keiji never wanted to make Bokuto feel like anything other than himself.

It was a miracle Keiji didn’t get fired that day, the way he smiled at everything and everyone, even thin air. His managers eyed him up and down, probably suspecting that he was on drugs during his shift. Keiji didn’t care at all, sneaking his phone out at every chance just to talk to Bokuto. 

Everything was Bokuto. Bokuto, Bokuto, Bokuto.

Keiji realized later that night that Bokuto didn’t use the burner phone to talk to Oikawa.

**JANUARY 27th, 2018.**

Fully in the throng of the second semester, Keiji was really starting to feel the winter blues. He was stressing about school work, work, and Tooru Oikawa’s reappearance into the dorm was not making that any easier. He’d returned the first week of January, making his disabled presence as noticeable as possible.

“Oh, Akaashi! It’s me, your favorite roommate!” He’d yelled, struggling with his bags and crutches. He fumbled and eventually gave up trying to control everything. He’d leaned against the doorframe, tossing his bags into the room unceremoniously, proceeding to hop across the room. “Hmph, and here I thought you’d missed me all this time!”

“Oh, I’ve missed you endlessly, Oikawa,” Keiji deadpanned.

“Good! Because now that I can’t play for the rest of the season, I’ll be spending a whole lot more time here with you!” Oikawa tossed a seductive wink towards Keiji who groaned dramatically.

“Just what I always wanted.”

Keiji had missed Oikawa, truthfully. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, and after the guilt of the whole surgery thing, Keiji felt like he owed it to Oikawa to be warmer than usual. He made them tea while Oikawa recounted his experience in the hospital.

“It was hell, Akaashi,” he’d said, curling his good leg under him. “Apparently, I’m not only one of the rare few who need surgery for the pain, but I’m one of the even rarer few who don’t take well with the anesthesia. I woke up during the surgery, yknow!”

“Oh, I know,” Keiji had said, handing the warm cup of tea to a greedy Oikawa. “Bokuto told me.”

“Oooooh, Bokuto,” Oikawa teased in his sing-songy voice. “What’s up with that?”

“Are you asking me because you don’t know or because you want to hear me gush about him?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“I like him,” Keiji admitted with a nonchalant shrug. “We’ve been talking almost non-stop for weeks now. He’s good company.”

“You’re welcome!” Oikawa yelled, punching Keiji solidly in the arm. “If it wasn’t for my disabled ass you never would have met him.”

“What, you were just gonna keep all your little famous friends a secret from me? How do you know all of them anyway, that’s insane.” Keiji had been meaning to ask for quite some time, but didn’t feel like interrogating Oikawa over the phone.

“Hinata was a childhood friend,” Oikawa said with a shrug. Keiji wanted to press for more, wringing every bit of information that he could. He knew that he couldn’t, that he shouldn’t, at the very least. Bokuto, and by extension Hinata and Kuroo, were no different than any normal people. He didn’t need to be so quizzical of them. 

Keiji didn’t want to spend his first night with Oikawa talking about Bokuto. He wanted to catch up with his roommate, make up for the lost time, and reassert himself as a good friend. He never wanted anything to go past his notice again.

He felt like that was quite funny now, as he sat trying desperately to get some homework done while Oikawa rambled on and on about how badly he missed practicing with the team.

“You don’t get it, Akaashi. I feel like an addict. Like I’m having withdrawal. This is so painful- ack! My chest!” Keiji had turned around just in time to watch Oikawa dramatically ‘faint’ back onto his bed.

“You should go into acting, not business,” Keiji teased.

“You think? That’s what Kuroo always says.” Oikawa hopped on his good foot over to the mirror where he began the world’s most annoying monologue. “It just… It breaks my heart, honestly. I’d do anything to go back to the sport I love. I don’t know who I’d be without it. I don’t know where I’d be without it. It’s everything to me, it’s my reason to be alive.”

“Then I guess you’ll be dying soon?” Keiji deadpanned, tapping his pencil on the side of his textbook.

“Rude!” Oikawa exclaimed, hopping back over to his bed. “You’ll be sorry when I die.”

Keiji’s phone pinged delightfully. “Yes, Oikawa, I will grieve like no other.”

Keiji opened his phone, of course to a message from Bokuto. He felt a stupid little smile draw across his face, not going unnoticed by his pestering roommate.

“Oh, Bokuto! If only you knew how I love you! If only you knew-” Oikawa was cut off by Keiji, who had flung his pencil with precise aim directly towards his eyeball. “You are a beast,” Oikawa groaned.

Keiji felt his senses shut down.

BOKUTO: I’m sorry to do this to you. I’m sorry that this has to happen at all.

BOKUTO: I wanted nothing more than to break the rules. I wanted to know you, to be close to you, to be friends with you. I wanted that so badly. I still do. But I’m backed into a corner and I don’t have much of a choice anymore.

BOKUTO: My managers found out what I’m doing. They think I’m being too distracted by you, that you’re making my performance worse. I would argue that you’ve made me better, that you’ve made everything more bearable. It gets so hard sometimes, but you gave me a reason to keep going. Something to look forward to at the end of the day.

BOKUTO: I can’t go against them now. I’m sorry, Akaash. Please promise me you’ll be okay?

“Akaashi you’re white as a ghost,” Oikawa noted. Keiji couldn’t bring himself to respond. Bokuto had just said goodbye. “Keiji.”

Oikawa hobbled over to Keiji’s desk, looking over his shoulder at his messages from Bokuto. Keiji couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. How was any of this happening? How was this happening so fast? Just that morning they’d been talking about which High School Musical movie was the best. And that’s it? That’s just where it ends?

“Keiji, I-”

“What now?” Keiji asked. His voice was barely stronger than a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa admitted. He was leaning on Keiji’s chair for balance, an arm wrapped around Keiji’s shoulders. “I didn’t think his managers would actually be so brutal.”

“Do they honestly think I’m a threat?” Keiji asked weakly. “Me, a college student in Japan. Do they honestly believe I’d do anything to him? Have they honestly not seen how happy he’s been? He said it himself, he feels better, he’s doing better. Can’t they see that?” Keiji felt like he was going insane. Bokuto was his star, the protagonist of his own story. How could he be gone just like that? So easily?

“They don’t care about you, and they don’t care about him,” Oikawa snapped. His voice was filled with hatred, a course, biting resolve. “They want him to do the best he can, not for his sake but for theirs. I’ll never understand their lack of humanity. Especially for someone who’s so human.” Keiji took his eyes off the messages, craning his neck to look at Oikawa. His eyes were filled with passion. Keiji figured he’s dealt with this much more than he had himself.

“Is this for real?” Keiji was in complete denial that this was it. No way had he just lost a friend, just like that.

“Bokuto might be a little shit, but he wouldn’t find this funny. I’m sorry, Keiji.” He couldn’t believe it. That couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be.

“Can you say something to him? Are you going to get off too?”

“No, I have an NDA. I knew them before they got big, so it’s the equivalent of being family.”

“Can I get an NDA?” Keiji was desperate, racking his mind for ways to just get his Bokuto back.

“If his managers found out that he was keeping you secret, then probably not. They aren’t going to want you near him, period.” Oikawa’s eyes were full of regret, but Keiji couldn’t see past his own frenzy.

“What can I do? I need to do something, I need to get him back.” Keiji was working himself up to a full panic. He tossed his phone onto his desk, seeing the still incomplete work for tomorrow’s class. How could he even begin to think about something so trivial when Bokuto was gone? He had nothing to work for, nothing to look forward to at the end of the day.

Oikawa couldn’t say anything. He knew Keiji would be unresponsive, stuck in his own state of deliriousness. Keiji’s face was completely saturated with confusion, as if he couldn’t recognize his hands as his own.

Keiji had never felt so lost. Someone who he had just been best friends with was gone with a snap. Keiji had never been so intimately close with someone while being so far apart. He’d never grown on someone so quickly, revealing the rawest qualities of himself with ease. He felt like along with Bokuto, he’d lost a part of himself.

That night, Keiji couldn’t sleep. He waited restlessly until Oikawa had fallen asleep. Oikawa was too good of a friend; making sure that Keiji was conformatable, listening to his incessant rambles, and guiding him through his grief. Once Oikawa was deep asleep, Keiji pulled himself out of his bed and padded over to their window. It was a cold, clear night, and Keiji couldn’t feel anything, not even the chill reverberating off of the window.

He looked to the sky, the clear, expansive sky and picked out a star. That was his star. That star was his favorite star in the whole entire sky. Out of all of the billions and trillions of stars, this was the one that he loved most. And so he named it Bokuto. After his star.

Keiji nearly crumbled into bits at the thought of his star, the one he no longer had. He mourned the delightful buzz of his phone, Bokuto’s contact name appearing on his screen. He mourned the friendship that rivaled all others.

Keiji hoped against all hope that maybe Bokuto would look at this star too. After all, they were worlds apart, but under the same sky.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BOKUTO: No really, if you had to rank the HSM movies, what order would you put them in?

BOKUTO: There’s only one right answer for this. Don’t fuck it up.

AKAASHI: Fine, but you can’t get mad at me if I screw this up. 

BOKUTO: I just might. I’m unpredictable.

AKAASHI: Okay. Number three is obviously the last one. No question. It doesn’t even begin to compare to the first two.

BOKUTO: Okay, good, you’re on a roll so far!

AKAASHI: Number two… Hm, this is hard. I’m nervous to say.

BOKUTO: Oh, come on, you gotta tell me. I’m intrigued now!

AKAASHI: Okay. In second place… drum roll please…

BOKUTO: BADUM BADUM BADUM BADUM BADUM BADUM BADUM!!!!!!!

AKAASHI: The first HSM. Now this was a very difficult decision to make because of course there are classic songs and moments. It’s only a few points behind the second one, which is clearly and obviously in first place. I mean come on, there’s so much more plot.

BOKUTO: FUCK YEAH! Akaashi you are a true genius, I swear.

BOKUTO: I am totally rubbing this in Kuroo’s face. He swears that the first one is better and it just isn’t.

AKAASHI: Maybe one day he’ll learn what true art is.

BOKUTO: God, I sure hope so.

BOKUTO: High School Musical 4: Kuroo Sees the Truth.

AKAASHI: Ah yes, a classic.

AKAASHI: High School Musical 5: Kuroo Revokes His Previous Statements

BOKUTO: High School Musical 6: Kuroo Goes To Court 

AKAASHI: High School Musical 7: Hinata Is Sued For Defamation

BOKUTO: Holy shit, okay you win that was a good one!!

AKAASHI: I do my best.

**Author's Note:**

> Just what we all wanted! An angsty Bokuaka fic! You're welcome!


End file.
